


The Coat

by MissEllaVation



Category: U2 (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 20:48:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17148854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissEllaVation/pseuds/MissEllaVation
Summary: It's Christmas Eve, and Bono and Edge have been busking on Grafton Street. I wrote this in about half an hour and it's VERY silly.Four days later: Honestly, no one else needs to read this one. Don't feel obligated. It's not actually good. Thanks for the hits and kudos, though!





	The Coat

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas to likeamadonna, fouroux, spacemonkey, zoodream, and everybody else.

“You looked about twenty-five years old out there. Every time I looked at you. I just couldn’t believe it.”

“And _you_ , in that majestic green coat. Did you wear it as a subtle reminder to the skeptics that you’re still just as Irish as ever?”

“No, Edge. I wore it because—hey!”

“Because why?”

“Stop tugging me. We’re at a party, for feck’s sake. I can’t just walk back out there with my shirt ripped to shreds.”

“I think you could. I would appreciate it, anyway. Let me just open a few buttons…there. But you were telling me about the green coat.”

“Kiss me first…oh. Your nose is cold.”

“ _Your_ nose is cold. And monumental as ever.”

“The better to breathe in your heady masculine pheromones, love.”

“Bono.”

“Anyway, the coat. I chose this coat for a very specific reason.”

“Which is…”

“Excuse me. How can I answer when you’ve got your hand down my front pocket? No, don’t take it away… oh. Edge, you do know there’s a houseful of people out there, right?”

“Mm…don’t care.”

“Did you miss me? While you were eating your way across Italy?”

“Oh God, yes. But every time I ate a cannoli, I thought about you.”

“Naughty little bastard.”

“That’s me.”

“With the voice of a whole choir of angels.”

“More like a whole village of Welsh miners. Just tell me about the coat.”

“The coat… how can I tell you about the coat when your tongue is on my neck? God, Edge…”

“Mm. I just keep thinking how beautiful the Christmas lights were at the theater, and in the shops all up and down the street. But they were nothing compared to you.”

“Ah no, Edge.”

“Yes. I swear you had all this light around you, like a halo. And you’ve never sounded better.”

“Because you were there. I’m always at my best with you. Kiss me… kiss me again… good… I kept looking at you, and except for the beard I felt I was looking at your nineteen-year-old face. Like he was there too, that kid, just under the surface. I can’t explain… I’m sure the cameras caught me staring.”

“Sweetheart. Never stop looking at me, okay?”

“I won’t.”

“…When are you going to tell me about the coat?”

“How can I tell you about the coat when you keep putting your tongue in my mouth?”

“I guess that _is_ a problem…”

“Mmph.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Edge.”

“‘Yes Bono?’”

“‘Yes Bono,’ ‘Yes Homo.’ All the yesses.”

“Sweetheart… Hey, it’s getting loud out there. Tell me about the coat.”

“The coat?”

“The coat.”

“The coat, Edge, is a very special color. Sure, it evokes Ireland and Irishness. But it’s also the color of holly and ivy, and mistletoe. And most importantly of all, it is the exact color of your eyes. And I wanted to be wrapped up in that color tonight, to keep me warm out on the street.”

“You absolute gobshite.”

“You’re crying.”

“No I’m not.”

“You fucking _are,_ Edge. Now listen: I want you to give me a massive kiss. In fact, I want you to shove me against this wall, and put your knee between my legs, and kiss me so hard that it leaves a mark. And then I want us both to walk back into that party, looking like we’ve just been kissing and humping away here in the pantry, so that everyone will know. Got all that?”

“Oh…Yes.”

“Okay. Starting…now!"

"Mmph.”

*

Happy Holidays, everybody.


End file.
